against the wall
by devirnis
Summary: "Jinn's always been… uncomfortably interested in his bots, ever since she became First Minister."


**Author's Note:** One more before the end of the year!

Title comes from the song "Push" by Marianas Trench.

* * *

 **against the wall**

"Your technological achievements continue to amaze, Corporal."

Baird's body goes rigid at the voice so close behind him. He turns slowly, not quite able to believe that First Minister Mina Jinn is in his office, but there she is, in the flesh – and her perfectly ironed blazer.

"Nobody's called me 'corporal' in a long time," Baird says slowly, mind already working to figure out Jinn's angle. As much as he would like to believe this visit is an unexpected coincidence, he's very much aware that the schematics for the DR-1 were sent to production yesterday. The first prototypes are already being assembled in the lab downstairs, and should be ready for stress-testing by the end of the week.

Jinn's always been… uncomfortably interested in his bots, ever since she became First Minister.

"Those new models look a lot stronger than the Shepherds."

She says it with such casual indifference that he wonders if he would have picked up on the fact that she somehow knows classified company information if he hadn't already been on alert.

"Yeah," Baird replies, folding his arms across his chest. "Should be able to take on more heavy-duty construction projects."

The First Minister tuts quietly. "Construction again. I'd hoped your ambitions had… expanded."

He knows where she's going with this. They've danced around the issue for nearly two years now, despite Baird's repeated and vehement insistences that his bots aren't weapons.

"We need infrastructure now more than ever," Baird says, feeling like this is the hundredth time he's said these words. "We bombed ourselves back to the last century fighting the grubs—" Jinn winces at the term, which gives Baird a small modicum of satisfaction "— and now with the Windflares wreaking havoc out there, construction should be our main priority."

Jinn chuckles, raising her hands in surrender. "Well-spoken as usual, Corporal." She turns to leave, lingering to glance at a few of the frames hanging on his wall. Her eyes linger on an old picture of Delta Squad – him, Cole, Marcus, Tai, Dizzy and Ben Carmine, taken just before they set out on Operation: Hollow Storm. He can't be certain, but she seems to be staring at Dizzy.

"Remember, Corporal." She takes a few more steps before pausing in the threshold. "Windflares aren't the only problem facing the COG."

He doesn't miss how, as she says that, the First Minister's eyes go cold.

* * *

From: 'Anton Rovik - Ephyra Post Asshole'

To: 'you'

Subject: Comment on leaked information?

1 attachment

Baird stares at the images for a long time, hoping he's mistaken. Or that his eyes have suddenly stopped working properly. Or, hell, that this is just another stress dream brought on by the impending shipment of a new model.

It's none of those things, obviously. Just frigging depressing reality.

Attached to the e-mail the reporter sent him are images with pretty piss-poor resolution, but Baird can make out the subject just fine. It's a modified DR-1, holding a _fucking chain gun_.

 _Conniving bitch._

The betrayal settles heavy in his chest, like his lungs have suddenly filled with water. He's genuinely surprised – and he _hates_ himself for being so naïve. Of course Jinn was going to get what she wanted out of his bots; it was only a matter of time.

He wonders which of his employees went behind his back to help her out with this little project.

OUTGOING MESSAGE

MAESTRO: Care to explain? [1 attachment]

He doesn't have to wait long for the reply.

FMJINN: I told you, Corporal. You need to think of the future. DB Industries can't stay solely in construction forever.

 _Yes, it can as long as I'm the fucking CEO._

MAESTRO: Funny, I don't remember the board electing you.

FMJINN: This will happen. With or without your approval.

Ah. He shouldn't be stunned, he really shouldn't, but he never really expected her to threaten to push him out of his own company. DBi is his baby – what he's always wanted to do with his life, before the army, before he even finished his fancy boarding school. But apparently it doesn't belong to him. Not really, not wholly. He'd deluded himself into thinking he had control over this, assuming Jinn would actually listen to him.

 _Goddamn it, when am I going to learn?_

MAESTRO: I see.

FMJINN: They'll be deployed primarily in security roles. To keep our people safe.

Baird wonders if she really believes that, or if she's just trying to placate him. Jinn grew up in a Stranded colony; people assumed she'd be sympathetic to the Outsiders when she became First Minister. Turns out they completely missed the mark. Her anti-Outsider policies haven been the most aggressive in the new COG's history. Baird doesn't kid himself for a second into believing that his bots aren't going to eventually be sent out to exterminate that "threat".

MAESTRO: You keep telling yourself that.

FMJINN: I'm being sincere. Don't make this messier than it has to be.

MAESTRO: I'm not designing weapons for you.

 _That was never my plan. I never wanted to be the next Adam Fenix_.

FMJINN: I'm not asking you to do that. But we don't need a PR crisis.

MAESTRO: So, what, you want me to stay on as a figurehead? Your pet monkey who smiles for the cameras and acts like I'm okay with this?

FMJINN: Don't be crude. All I'm saying is that the papers don't need to cover an ugly exit for the company's founder.

So that's what she's really worried about. Negative press from one of the heroes of the Locust War. Jinn's already lost the great Sergeant Fenix to obscurity; the last thing she needs is her fellow ministers seeing a public spat with another Delta Squad alumnus.

It would be so easy to fuck her over. Take his story to the _New Ephyra Post_ and drag her name and tactics through the mud. Fight tooth and nail to keep the soul of his company intact. He never wanted to be a weapons manufacturer. This wasn't supposed to be the end of the path he set himself on years ago.

But.

If he does that – if he publicly defies the First Minister – he'll lose it all. Everything he's built for himself since the end of the war, everything he ever wanted – it'll belong to her. To the COG.

He should leave. That's the right thing to do, isn't it? Pack up his dignity and moral conviction and dreams and leave his company behind. It's what Marcus would do if he were in this position; Baird has no doubt about that. But as Baird thinks about the prospect of walking away from DB Industries – whether quietly or kicking and screaming – a cold panic flares powerfully under his ribs. And he knows.

 _I can't_.

* * *

"Does staying make me a coward?" Baird asks Sam later that night.

(And after he's had more than a few glasses of whiskey.)

Sam sighs and wraps her arms around him. "Are Gus and I cowards for staying in the army? I don't think there's an easy answer."

"Somehow I thought you'd say that."

Sam smiles, and thankfully doesn't try to make him feel better with any platitudes. They're both too old for that shit to work.

* * *

INCOMING MESSAGE

VINTNER: He left.

Baird blinks at the screen a few times, trying to piece together possible scenarios with that limited information. He _thinks_ he knows what it means, but he has to be mistaken. The kid couldn't be such a moron to run away _twice_.

MAESTRO: You're going to have to be a little more specific.

VINTNER: James. He went AWOL.

"Shit," Baird mutters. If JD's gone, Del's defected with him as well. God _damn_ it. The COG militia's star officers both jumping ship at the same time. That won't look good for Jinn, which means she's definitely going to have it in for the both of them.

MAESTRO: When.

God, please let it be recent. Please don't let Marcus's stupid sense of pride have made him keep this from Baird so it's too late to help.

VINTNER: A few hours, tops. Something bad happened with the bots.

 _The bots? Oh shit._

As much as Baird would love to lead the hermit life that Marcus does, he has a masochistic desire to keep up with the news. Jinn made a big frigging deal a couple months back about a new security team consisting of Gears and bots—lead by none other than the son of the legendary war hero Marcus Fenix.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck._

MAESTRO: I'm on it.

For the first time in years, Baird is unbelievably thankful that he's stayed on as CEO. He still has unrestricted security clearance – which he rarely ever uses because it's depressing as fuck to see the horrible modifications Jinn's scientists are cooking up for his bots – and it's going to be extremely useful for the next few minutes.

VINTNER: Thanks for watching out for him.

 _As if I'd do anything else for those assholes._

Baird pulls up the Watcher camera footage and runs facial recognition on JD and Del. If he can erase them from the system – or their escape, at least – he can keep Jinn and the COG from hunting them down immediately and making examples out of them as enemies of the state. Going AWOL means they're going to have to try and find an Outsider colony to take them in. Because they don't frigging _think_ – if they thought ahead, they would have known their faces would be all over Watcher footage, seriously, what the _hell_ – they're probably not aware of the mechanical wrath they're going to bring down on whatever group takes them in.

He wipes all the footage of JD and Del from the drones and plugs a piece of code in that will make it look like a manufacturing error. All the effected bots are running on the same grid system so hopefully no one will think to look any deeper. If Baird had more time, he could cover his tracks more thoroughly but he knows that as soon as this news reaches Jinn, she'll be scrambling as many soldiers and DeeBees as she can to hunt those kids down.

After he's successfully erased JD and Del's digital footprints, he sets up a delay for any alerts on new images of their faces. If any of his bots record them, a message will go to his personal e-mail first before the footage are permanently logged in the system. He can cover their tracks from the safety of his indifference as CEO.

 _If I ever see those kids again, I swear I'm going to strangle them._

Baird quickly erases the log of his conversation with Marcus, just in case. He's got no doubt that even if he doesn't leave so much as a digital fingerprint, Jinn's immediately going to suspect him for covering JD and Del's escape. As much as Baird hates her, he's fully aware that the First Minister is no fool.

* * *

It isn't until Baird's in the safety of his own home and regaling Sam with the tale of his afternoon at the office that the idea occurs to him. Apparently he's just so very good at compartmentalizing that, in his haste to cover JD an Del's tracks, he forgot to consider the obvious:

 _One of my bots could kill JD._

He pauses mid-rant, the rage disappearing in an instant. For a second, he feels empty, numb—in shock. And then the blinding terror sets in.

"What?" Sam asks, her brows furrowed in concern.

"Jinn's going to send bots after them," Baird says quietly. "What if—?"

"Hey." Sam cuts him off, which is probably for the best as Baird can feel himself starting to spiral. "Don't sell those kids short. They might be idiots for going AWOL, but they're still bloody brilliant. I don't think a few of your bots are going to catch them out."

Baird scoffs. "A few? I wouldn't put it past Jinn to send a whole fleet of Sentinels after them. They can't hide forever."

"Have you met JD? He's stubborn as hell. Must take after one of his uncles."

Baird can't help but chuckle; he's horrified that it sounds slightly choked.

"Come on," Sam says gently. "JD's a Fenix. He was raised by Delta, and how many times did we narrowly escape death? And no offence, darling, but I think the grubs were more dangerous than your toys are."

The slight jab at his pride somehow manages to break through the cocoon of despair he's trying to build around himself. Of course, Sam knows exactly how to distract him, take the edge of whatever's bothering him. She's spent years breaking down his defences and she's an annoyingly quick study.

"I resent that implication," Baird gripes, but there's no real heat behind it.

He knows she's right. No matter how Jinn has twisted his creation, the DeeBees were never meant to be weapons. And JD has that Delta Squad mix of creativity and sheer dumb luck that helped his dad survive the Locust War. With Del's caution to temper JD's stupider impulses, the two of them should be able to handle whatever the First Minister decides to throw at them.

JD's going to be fine.

He has to be.

Because Baird doesn't know what he'll do if something happens to his dumbass nephew because of him.


End file.
